I vow I do not understand you."

"Then ask my Lord Comyn, who knows your Duke of Chartersea," said Betty.

Dr. Courtenay's expression was worth a pistole.

"Comyn know him!" he repeated.

"That he does," replied Betty, laughing. "His Lordship says Chartersea
is a pig and a profligate, and I remember not what else. And that Dolly
will not look at him. And so little Mr. Marmaduke may go a-hunting for
another title."

No wonder I had little desire for dancing that night! I wandered out of
the assembly-room and through the silent corridors of the Stadt House,
turning over and over again what I had heard, and picturing Dorothy
reigning over the macaronies of St. James's Street. She had said nothing
of this in her letter to Betty, and had asked me to write to her. But
now, with a duke to refuse or accept, could she care to hear from her old
playmate? I took no thought of the time, until suddenly my conscience
told me I had neglected Patty.

As I entered the hall I saw her at the far end of it talking to Mr.
Allen. This I thought strange, for I knew she disliked him. Lord Comyn
and Mr. Carroll, the barrister, and Singleton, were standing by,
listening. By the time I was halfway across to them the rector turned
away. I remember thinking afterwards that he changed colour when he
said: "Your servant, Mr. Richard." But I thought nothing of it at the
time, and went on to Patty.